Running Out of Time
by La Dama Aquella
Summary: Voldemort has finally been defeated and the wizarding world can rest easy. But a new threat is emerging from the darkness. Hungry for action, Harry steps up to play hero once again. But matters become complicated when love and betrayal are thrown in.
1. Chapter 1

I can't believe I'm leaving, thought Hermione as she folded up her blouse and tucked it neatly into her trunk. Most of her things were packed away already. She had sorted through her belongings, disposing of the items that she didn't have room for. Her room looked rather barren now, she imagined it would be transformed into an office, or perhaps a home gym. Or maybe her parents would leave it the way it was for sentimental reasons. Whatever would happen, it wasn't going to be her residing bedroom any longer.

She sighed and looked around, _it was nice knowing you_. She carried her trunk down the stairs and out of the house, turned the corner into a narrow alley and disapparated.

Ron checked himself in the mirror with a dissatisfied stare. _I'll never look good enough_, he thought to himself. Despite what anyone might try to tell him now, years of being picked on as the youngest brother weighed down his self- esteem and he was sure he was just plain unattractive. He did his best to arrange his hair more handsomely and threw a couple mint leaves in his mouth to chew, _it'll have to do. _

It would have to do for Hermione, as he knew deep down it would. Despite his self-loathing, she had chosen him. Not the boy who lived, but him. It felt good knowing that someone wanted him. He smiled a little as her face flitted across his mind, her big shining eyes. He thought dreamily of the day of their first kiss. He had been so nervous before, yet when it happened, despite his heart thumping out of its chest, his nervousness turned to excitement and joy. And in that moment when he pulled her close to him he could feel her heart pounding too. He thought of her sweet little giggle and the red flush on her face, he kept wondering what other parts of her body might also be blushing.

"Ron!" came a shout from down the stairs as Ginny jolted him out of his daydream. _Yikes, what a contrast._ "Mum says you've got to clear out the gnomes from the garden, and I've got to help you so come on!"

He reluctantly stood up to head down stairs. _The day cannot come fast enough when I move out of this house._

Hermione appeared on a grassy hill. _Ah, the countryside_. She had become so familiar with this hill that it was more like home to her than her own parents' house at this point. And now that she was coming into adulthood, it felt more than ever like it was where she belonged. The sweet air filled her senses and the light sun skimmed her face. Knowing that this would be her home for now, she acknowledged her surroundings with a new perspective. _Home_. Once she got her fill of it, she walked down the hill and headed towards the tall, oddly built house of the Weasleys.

She held her hands out to the tall grass as she walked down, feeling them brush against her fingertips, until she arrived outside of the garden. She could see Mrs. Weasley through the kitchen window talking to some unseen person.

_Knock knock_

Hermione could hear a set of feet scurry to the front door just before it swung open. Just the face she wanted to see. "Hi," Ron breathed out the words like he had been holding them in all day. He wore a perfect smile on his face and Hermione reflected it right back.

She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the lips so as not to embarrass him too much, "Hi Ron, I missed you." They smiled at each. He was her rock now. Her everything. As she smiled she looked into is eyes and knew that her happiness lie here with him, or wherever he decided to go for that matter. _This is it, I'm grown, and I've chosen him_. Finally she managed to break away from her loving daze and look around the room.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley," she said cheerily, pulling herself away from the gooey eyed red-head. Mrs. Weasley looked as good as ever. The war was over and her constant worry of dead children had been somewhat alleviated. Now she was back to cooking and caring for her nest as she loved to do. She smiled at Hermione with a motherly glint in her eyes.

"Hello Hermione," she greeted with a large grin, "How was seeing your parents?"

"It was good," Hermione replied, "But I'm glad to be here now." She glanced at Ron dreamily. Mrs. Weasley smiled back with a special kind of acknowledgment.

Now Hermione turned to Ginny who had been sitting at the table reading a piece of parchment. "Hi Ginny. How have you been?"

"Okay." She responded not looking up, "I've just received my letter from Hogwarts a few days ago. I can't believe it's finally my last year." Ginny waved the parchment around signaling what she was holding. "It looks like we're going to have to go to Diagon Alley and pick up a few things, mum."

Mrs. Weasley crumpled her face, no doubt concerned about costs, and said, "Yes, we can go tomorrow if you like, Ginny. And you're welcome to come along as well, of course, Hermione."

"That would be nice, thank you." She replied politely. After spending a few weeks with muggles, parents or not, it would be nice to take a trip to the wizarding shops, especially now that she was a free woman to use magic whenever she pleased.

After discussing more specific plans with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Hermione headed upstairs to his bedroom to put away her things and settle in. It had taken a bit of awkward conversation, but Mrs. Weasley had finally agreed to allow Hermione to stay in Ron's room during her stay, as opposed to Ginny's which was far more traditional. For a moment Mrs. Weasley insisted that Hermione occupy George and Fred's old room, however, perhaps with the threat of war still fresh on her pallet, she had succumbed to Ron's pleas. _Or maybe it was because Ron had demanded so firmly that I stay with him_, she thought, his mother had perhaps been so impressed that she respected his request. She smiled to herself at the thought, _oh we're both so young_.

Ron's heart beat heavily in his chest, but it was not out of nervousness. It did not jump or skip as he led Hermione by the hand up the stairs to his room, though it did flutter a bit to feel her fingers intertwined with his own. This was his everything. Years of dreaming, sometimes literally, and the girl of his dreams was here with him. Having been friends for so long already allowed him to feel ultimately comfortable with her. Her scent, her hair, her eyes, it was all so familiar.

When they made it to his room he set her trunk to the side and led her to the bed, removing his shoes and getting more comfortable. "Do you want your shoes off?" he asked sweetly getting on his knees before her. She nodded and he proceeded to unlace her small boots, slowly and taking care to not jerk her feet around much. Slowly he slid one shoe off and caressed her foot with his cheek to which she sighed pleasantly. He moved to the next foot and slowly pulled off the shoe and sock and kissed it. She let out a little satisfied moan as he kissed up to her ankle. "Hermione," he said quietly looking up at her. She looked back down at him calmly.

"Come up here." She patted her hand on the bed next to her, and he slowly moved up and around her until he lay on the bed next to her. Looking into his eyes, she leaned down and laid down next to him, face to face. "I missed you" She whispered.

"I missed you too. I thought you'd never arrive."

They laid together for a long while, the sun's warmth beating in through his window onto them. With their arms and legs intertwined, the heat slowly lulled them to sleep. Ron watched as long as he could as the girl of his dreams lay before him, sleeping in his bed, until he himself slipped into a nap.

Diagon alley was alive again. After months of ruthless intimidation and crime, the street was again bustling with eager shoppers and excited children crowding around this or that other desired new toy displayed in a window. Harry Potter smiled as he saw a group of kids gaze longingly at the newest broomstick through a window, _Oh how it felt to want_. He walked passed them and into the shop.

"Mr. Potter, what can I do for you today?" The man said cheerily from behind the counter.

Harry nodded at him with a smile, "Hello Mr. Leatherby, How are you? I'm going to need another favor."

Mr. Leatherby smiled in a knowing sort of way, yet almost tired like. As he spoke his thick moustache quivered upon his lip, "Up to no good again, Mr. Potter? You know you ought to stick to the things you know best."

"Well if that be the case," said Harry, now shuffling through a small sack hanging from his shoulder, "then certainly getting up to no good is what I'm best at." He finally found what he was looking for in the seemingly small sack (though he managed to dip his arm all the way inside of it), and removed a broomstick and placed it on the counter. It was practically brand new with a glimmering, newly finished handle and hardly had wear on the bristles at all.

The man examined the broomstick with care, sweeping his hand up the handle and looking closely at the very tip. "Where did you pick up this find, then?" He asked looking up at Harry.

Harry gave him a most unbending look, "you know that isn't important, sir." He said, putting extra emphasis on the word sir. He reached his hand out as if to take the broom back, "But if you are concerned about the matter, I could take it to someone else…"

"Now, now, let us not play games again." He jolted, pulling the broomstick back towards himself, "I'll give you ten galleons for it."

"30"

"You're mad, Potter. No more than 20"

"Done," Agreed harry, thoroughly satisfied. After all, he had gotten it for free. It was all profit.

As Mr. Leatherby counted the galleons he asked, "How long are you going to keep at this, Potter? A powerful sorcerer such as yourself surely can find more satisfying ways to make a profit."

Harry chuckled then thought for a moment. That was true, he supposed, "Where am I to get my fill of thrill now that all the bad guys have been put away?"

"Oh, don't you worry," said Mr. Leatherby with a grave tone in his voice now, "to stomp out all the evil is ideal, but there will always be 'bad guys' who need a good roughin' up." He continued looking at Harry as though expecting him to agree and immediately saunter off to find the said bad guys. Instead Harry took his 20 galleons, thanked the man, and left.

Yes, there will always be bad guys, but for once he felt that the world was not in imminent threat of genocide and tyranny. And it felt good to not have such responsibility weighing down on his shoulders, digging him into the ground. Though he did still feel the pull of excitement wherever it found him, and oh how it found him. Just a day ago he happened upon the cave of a dangerous troll. And yes, happened upon it. Now that the dark lord was vanquished and all surviving death eaters in hiding, it was perfectly safe to apparate up and down the coasts and countryside, and that is exactly what Harry was doing. Feeding his need for adventure, he explored a new region every time he had the chance. This particularl time, he stumbled upon the final resting place of some unlucky wizard who thought he was perhaps vacationing in the cave by himself. Fortunately for Harry, though the man was certainly dead and gone, his broomstick remained, nearly unharmed. _Merlin knows I don't need the galleons_, he thought imagining the large pile of gold and the like sitting safely in his vault at Gringgott's, _but who wouldn't take advantage of such an opportunity to investigate a cave?_ And he certainly didn't need the broom, having a high quality one of his own at home. _Someone else can now enjoy someday what the poor sod left behind._

Harry was heading home now, to his new place here on Diagon Alley. It was a small loft above a café, but size was unimportant to Harry, certainly this was the largest private home he ever inhabited. It was the locaton, right in the center of the market, which he loved. After so many years of wishing to be ordinary, to be left alone to decide his own fate, he was surprised to find out that he had become accustom to so much activity. This place was perfect for him right now. In the morning he would pick up a pastry from downstairs and enjoy it in the midst of his fellow witches and wizards. It was just the place he wanted to be.

"Harry!" he looked around, being pulled from his reverie. "Harry, how are you!" he finally spotted her in the crowd, it was Hermione, a fabulously familiar face.

"Hermione, I've been really well," he managed to say with a grin as she threw herself into a hug, practically smothering him. "How have you been?"

"Not bad at all. Honestly I'm mostly just happy to be back here. Not being able to do magic at my parents' house is painful now that I'm old enough to use it whenever I want."

"Are you here alone?" he asked looking around her.

"No, I came with Ron." She said, and Harry understood. Things were different for them now, they finally managed to build up the courage to snog each other, _about bloody time_. "We accompanied Ginny and Mrs. Weasley," she continued, " they're doing the shopping for her final year at Hogwarts." She seemed to search his face for clues, and he could feel that he was probably giving some away.

"Oh," was all he could manage to think up. He and Ginny hadn't spoken since the end of the final battle. After the battle they spent days together, entwined emotionally, and often physically, hardly separating at all. He had made love to her sweetly on a picnic in a forest grove on the edge of the forbidden forest. It was slow and perfect and the ideal end to any war story. But then summer came and Mrs. Weasley brought her back home, and Harry was on his own. No more returning to the Dursley's, and no more hiding out in the woods. It was time for his life to really begin. That's when he found the flat here, above The Porcelain Tea Pot. Since then he had been doing whatever he could to stay occupied. Looking for trouble in the far off regions of the country, or, on less frequent occasions, fighting off trouble that came to find him. _Yes, there are still bad guys indeed_, he thought as he reminisced about an attack launched on him no more than a week ago. Old death eaters perhaps looking for action, they and Harry stumbled upon each other while he travelled outside a small muggle town on the Northern coast of Scotland. They recognized him immediately and pulled out their wands. Harry thought how foolish they were just before he pulled his own wand out and sent the two men flying. He didn't kill them, only paralyzed them before sending a message to the ministry requesting an arrest. _You would think that they would realize, I took down Voldemort, you hardly stand a chance._ The ministry had nearly ten death eaters in Azkaban with Harry to thank for their fate. They kept seeming to find him. All in all, he hadn't found himself finding the time to send an owl to Ginny, not to mention that he no longer had an owl. He felt somewhat bad about it, but tried to reason with himself. She was going back to Hogwarts now. He would hardly be able to see her within that time. _Might as well let her move on and date someone her own age. _ "How long will you guys be here? You ought to come inside, I'll make a pot of tea."

Hermione looked up at the building to which Harry was gesturing, "You live here?"

"Oh, yes." He blinked, "I haven't told you that?"

She shook her head, "I'm surprised you chose someplace so crowded. I would have thought you would want a bit more seclusion."

Harry chuckled a little, "Yeah, I would have thought that too, but maybe later in life that's what I'll need." He stopped and waited for an answer to his previous offer, still standing.

"Why don't I meet you there in a bit, I have a few things to pick up still." She said, and he nodded his approval of that plan. "Shall I bring the others too?" She asked, thoroughly unsure at this point.

He thought for a moment then nodded, "yeah, of course. I love all of you guys, it'll be nice to see everyone." Hermione nodded too, gave Harry another hug, and then turned to continue her shopping.

Harry quickly rushed upstairs to tidy his place.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione ran to find Ginny, she was sitting outside of the apothecary, her mother still inside purchasing a few things. Ginny looked thoroughly bored. But when she saw Hermione walking up her face lit up a little, and when Hermione told her who she had just ran into her face lit up a lot, a mix of excitement and nervousness. "So we're going over there?" She asked

Hermione nodded, "but you should go ahead of us." She gestured behind herself. "We'll meet you there as soon as your mother is done with her shopping." This implied that it could be a little while. Ginny said okay and took off to find the little café. It was not far, located in the center of all the other shops, yet tucked back a little. She flattened her hair and checked her teeth in the shop's window and proceeded around the back to a little staircase leading up to a flat. Taking a deep breath, she knocked and waited. After a some rustling from behind the door, he opened. The moment he saw her a smilel crept onto his face.

"Ginny" He barely mustered out the words before she silenced him, throwing herself around him and smashing him with her kiss.

It was sweet and strong and he kissed back eagerly, releasing a little groan as he did. He pulled her into him and back into his home, shutting the door with his foot. Her sweet scent filled him up like a drug, _oh how I've always loved that sweet scent_. Something snapped in his head as he slid his tongue out to taste her lips where they met it eagerly. Her fingers laced through his hair as she pulled her face away from his, far enough to get a good look.

"Where have you been, Harry?" She asked a mix of joking and pain in her voice. His ears tingled as his name left her lips.

"I've been around."

She raised her eyebrows testily. He could sense that she would not be satisfied with this explanation, but he was not particularly eager to give her a more thorough one. After all, what was his explanation anyway? The war had been too much and he needed to get away? Well that didn't seem to be true. In reality he missed all the action, but he didn't miss the drama. Just meaningless adventure was what he was craving now. Thoughtless and meaningless adventure. He had gone through hell for years, literally sacrificed himself in order to save the wizarding world, and then came back to finish fighting. He was a hero and everyone knew it. But now there was no dark lord to fight and it felt strange. For the first time in his life he was not the number one target of a tremendously powerful and evil wizard. That part was nice, but it was strange. He thought it would be a relief, but something wasn't right inside of him since the end of the war only a few months ago. Maybe it was just too normal. _I'll be able to handle that someday,_ he thought, a bit worried.

Well in any case, he was far too confused about his own feelings to be able to describe them to someone else. So he told her all he could muster, "I've been here." And it was the truth, sort of.

Ginny looked at him, a look of astonishment on her face that this was all he had to say. "When did you get this place?" Her eyes flitted around the room, now taking everything in. It was small, cozy, clean. She was almost sure it hadn't been this clean before he ran into Hermione.

"I moved in a couple weeks after the final battle." Harry shrugged as if it was of no consequence, and Ginny kept staring at him. "I still have money left over from my parents, remember? Not to mention the reward I got from the ministry for the war…" He trailed off.

"Well," she said, moving forward all the while looking into his eyes, "I'm just glad to see you here, now." As she inched closer to him she let her hands wander around his body. They trailed up to his chest, and his shoulders and up around the base of his neck. She reached her face up and lightly kissed him just below his hear, to which he responded with a shiver and a moan. _I missed this spitfire of a girl_, he thought. She was no stranger to this kind of affection, nor was he. Maybe this is what he was searching for. The feeling of that small, warm body close to his, lacing its way around him. Hot and sweet…

Knock Knock

Ginny jumped back in shock at the sound of Hermione's voice on the other side of the door, "Harry, it's us!" Harry and Ginny exchanged pained glances, but they regained their composure as Harry walked over to open the door.

"Well aren't you guys a sight for sore eyes." He exclaimed playfully to a smiling Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley. Ron moved in to give Harry a brotherly handshake, though his eyes quickly spotted Ginny already inside and darted back to Harry suspiciously. Ginny simply gave him a 'What's your problem' glare and looked away. "Come inside you guys." Harry gestured welcomingly with his arms.

Mrs. Weasley wore a rather excited look on her face as she looked around the flat. "Oh! This is so wonderful for you Harry! You're very own home." She clapped her hands together and smiled at him.

He just scratched the back of his head a bit modestly and chuckled with a crooked grin, "this is the Potter palace, yes."

They chatted for a while pleasantly about nonsense and sipped on tea. Eventually Mrs. Weasley mentioned having to pick up a few things she forgot at the book store and headed off.

Then the question Harry had been waiting for finally arrived. It was Hermione who delivered it, "So what have you been doing here, Harry?" She didn't seem overly concerned, just curious. Ginny looked at him hoping she was about to hear something interesting.

He only shrugged again. Ron scoffed, "What's that mean?" he demanded.

"I've just been spending some time alone, you know." He stated innocently, though Hermione wasn't convinced it was so innocent. She knew her friend better than that.

Ron gave a doubtful look and said, "Oh yea, I can see that. I'm sure you're getting lots of alone time here in the middle of this shopping epicenter. Real quiet like." He jabbed his thumb at the open window behind him. The sounds of laughter and talking and foot traffic wafted in easily.

Harry rolled his. But Hermione butted it, "Honestly, Ron's right. This isn't exactly quiet."

"No, the street isn't quiet. But the house can be when the windows are closed. And it's not like I'm spending all my time cooped up here." At that everyone's ears perked up, but he didn't continue. "It's just nice, being able to do as I please… I suppose."

Ron nodded cheerfully, "I understand that much."

They didn't hound him for information any further, though none of them let the issue rest in their minds. After some time, they agreed that they needed to return to the burrow and so they got up to leave. He opened the door to usher every one out, and though Ginny seemed to want a special goodbye, she did nothing with Ron watching like a hawk and decided to leave. He gave them all hugs and told them to stop by again any time, though if they did so unannounced he may not be around. The door was shut, and they were gone…

* * *

Hermione thought about what they just saw. She thought about Harry. _Why does he want so badly to be alone?_ The thought seemed strange to her, after all, hadn't he gotten tired of being alone after all these years? Alone at the Dursley's, alone after Sirius' death, alone after Dumbledore's death, alone after Lupin's and everyone else' death during that final battle. _Perhaps he just needs someone to love_. She thought, glancing up at Ron and reflecting on her own love for him. She would never feel alone again. Not as long as they were together.

* * *

Ron pondered Harry. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy._ He's alone and on his own, and I'm living with my girl at my mother's house_. He loved the burrow, of course. But it would certainly be welcome to sleep in the same bed as Hermione without getting a shameful look from his mother every morning. A job, that's what he needed. If they could both get jobs that would be even better. Then they could move out too.


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't like author's notes so there won't be too many of these, just an fyi: some adult content in this chapter (as there will be n future chapters, this _is_ a romance), but nothing too graphic. If you're sensitive to that kind of content, sorry for making you uncomfortable, but you've been warned.**

Hermione sat outside of the burrow, the wind blowing through her fluffy hair. It was a cool breeze, every once in a while it became so cold and sharp it stung her face. Fall was nearly here. She raised her face to the sky and watched as clouds passed through the skies freely. She envied their lives._ What am I doing?_ This thought kept pushing its way back into her mind, and she kept forcing it back down like a foul medicine. She chose to come here, to be with Ron. That she did not regret. But things didn't seem to be moving now. And she wanted things to start moving. In particular she wanted to start moving. And even more in particular she wanted to start moving out to someplace that wasn't Ron's parents' house. She loved them, of course, but this was not her idea of growing up.

And sometimes Ron seemed so upset, so moody. She was used to this side of his personality from the years of knowing him, but it was difficult to tolerate when he kept on for days at a time. She was sure it was a result of feeling stuck at his mother's house, just the way she did._ When we move out, it will change._ She knew he would always be him. But surely he could maintain a lighter mood when it was just the two of them, alone.

She just felt a bit trapped lately. She turned her gaze up to the clouds again. _Even they are not totally free, I suppose_, She thought, _ruled by laws of wind and nature, they answer to a higher power. Only blowing in the direction that is dictated to them by the air flow._ She looked back down at the ground. Regardless of the life of the clouds, this was her life now. Down here, close to the soil. She kept telling herself how things would all come together, forcing herself to believe.

She looked up when she heard footsteps coming from behind the garden's fence. It was her baby, back from a hard day at work. He wore a tired expression. "Hello, Ron" she said smiling. She wanted to be the light in his day.

He looked up, just now realizing that she was there. A smile instantly emerged on his face. "Hermione," He walked right to her and leaned down to give her a kiss. "I'm glad you're out here, I need to talk to you." He sat down next to her and pulled out a sack.

"What is it, Ron?" She asked with a little concern in her voice. But he seemed excited and it put her at ease. Her eyes were on the sack in his hand, it was clinking. "What is that?"

He smiled wide and handed it to her. It was heavy. "Oh my," she managed as she looked inside.

"It's for us," he proclaimed, "it's our way out." He kissed her on the cheek in delight.

Hermione reached into the sack and pulled out a single piece of gold and inspected it. "How did you manage this, Ron?" she asked amazed. _He has no idea how perfect his timing is._

"I robbed and stole of course." Hermione looked horrified and Ron burst out laughing. "Hermione, I made it working. What do you think I've been doing all this time?" he said, and the horror faded from her face. She was so happy, _we're going to get out of here!_

"How much is in here?" She asked, putting the galleon back into the bag.

"Enough to leave. I have to count it again. But I know there's enough to get us started." He wrapped his arm around her, immensely pleased with himself. "Should we tell mum?"

Hermione handed the sack of gold back to Ron and nodded. This is the important part. Exciting and a bit nerve wracking. Hermione was mostly excited though. _The beginning of the rest of your life, girl._ She stood and took Ron by the hand, and they both walked up to the house.

She took it rather well, as they knew she would. Mrs. Weasley became a bit emotional at the news of her little boy moving out, but she was happy for him, and proud of Ron for making it happen, just as Hermione was. Ginny was happy for them too, if not a little jealous.

"Now I'll be the only one left. What will we do with all the empty rooms!" She proclaimed sarcastically. Certainly this would be the emptiest the house had ever been since Molly gave birth to her first children.

Hermione only teased her and told her they would come see her, but she insisted she go to visit them instead. Perhaps for Christmas break.

"So where will you go?" Asked Mrs. Weasley finally. Hermione looked up at Ron, realizing that she don't know the answer to that question.

He chirped up, "well, it's enough to get us into a small place, like the one Harry's got…" he trailed off. "Me and Hermione will look at a few places and decide together." He looked at Hermione sappily. "I've checked out some spots already," he said, now speaking to her directly, "I'll take you to see them first thing in the morning. "

Her heart fluttered. _So soon, and yet I can't wait_.

The next day didn't come quick enough for Hermione. She had to avoid waking Ron up at the crack of dawn when she woke up. To keep herself from going mad, she prepared some breakfast for herself and brought it upstairs to Ron's room where she was staying. She looked around for a moment, eyes on her things._ Everything will need to be packed, good thing I know magic_. She grabbed her backpack and placed an undetectable extension charm on it, allowing most of her things to fit easily inside. She didn't pack them all, however, since she didn't know how many days it would be until she and Ron could leave.

To her delight, when Ron awoke a little later, he answered her inquiry, "we're moving out as soon as you and I decide where we're going," he said now shoveling some breakfast into his mouth. "Between you and me," he lowered his voice so only Hermione could hear him, "I'd love to be out tomorrow." He continued to pick food up with his fork, "or hell, even today!"

Hermione burst into a girlish excitement and kissed Ron on the cheek. "That would be amazing." She whispered into his ear. _I can't wait to have him all to myself in our new home_. Her mind traveled back to the last time she and he were alone together. It had been so perfect, almost...

Ron had been lying in his bed, close to sleep, and a creak came from behind the door. It slowly pushed open and in stepped just the face he had been waiting to see. He sat up straight, "Hermione."

She crept in without saying a word, but just touched her finger to her lips to motion for him to hush. The door clicked shut behind her and she cast a mufliato spell on it so that she could be a little louder. She found it thoroughly satisfying to see Ron with such an amazed look on his face. He looked mesmerized. "I missed you," she uttered, sitting down on his bed, "I just couldn't stay away." He looked at her ever more astonished. _Was he really that surprised to hear me talk about him this way?_ She had thought.

His eyes had shimmied down her body and then up again. She was in a simple set of pajamas, a little tank top and shorts, but he thought she looked absolutely magnificent. "Everyone else asleep already?" he asked eagerly.

She nodded, it was a lie, but he would never know. She leaned forward to give him a kiss but stopped just short of his lips and spoke in a hush, "Do you love me?"

He reached one hand up and touched it to the side of her face, "I love you." He spoke seriously, then leaned forward to connect their lips. She melted into him at the sound of his words, slowly moving over him until she had him straddled between her legs. His hands began traveling all over, up her sides and back down her back. His hands eagerly explored every inch of her that they dared go. But she dared more as her hands stroked from his neck and slowly down to his chest. He sucked in a breath of air as her fingers traveled lower and lower, reaching the waistband on his pants.

"I need you, Ron," she moaned into his ear, her voice aching. Suddenly his hands whipped down and grabbed her wrists to stop their movement. Her eyes flashed to his, "What's wrong?"

"Are- are you sure?" he asked almost painfully. _Oh this again._ She could barely keep from rolling her eyes, but somehow managed.

"Of course, Ronald. I want you so bad," she fought against his grip and slid a couple fingers further down his pants. His eyes fluttered and he released the slightest moan. _He can't hold out forever_. She bent down and kissed his neck and behind his ear and was rewarded with another little moan from him.

"But-" is all he could manage before she silenced him with a kiss. _Just give in already_. He managed to pull her face away long enough to speak, "I just don't want you to… regret anything" He looked slightly ashamed at his own words and Hermione sat up straight now, hands on her hips, still straddling him.

"Ronald Weasley, if you don't want to make love to me, just say so." She feigned anger and looked away hoping to provoke a reaction.

"That's not it 'Mione!" he was sitting up now too, their chests pressed against each others. "Honestly, I want this… bad" he said bravely. She looked back at him with a smirk and gave him a little kiss.

She pulled out her wand and Ron seemed a bit frightened for a moment. "Then," she said waving her wand fluidly through the air between them, "let me work my magic." With a swift motion her shirt had been removed to expose her breasts sitting beautifully in her bra. Ron gawked in amazement, smiling now too.

"You really are an amazing witch," his hands reached up and down her sides, and he watched them feel her. Manually, she pulled his shirt off too and pushed him back onto the bed. She had wanted him to be in control during all of this but he so far proved incapable. _Ah, well_, she'd thought, _Viktor did teach me one or two things_. Ron spoke again, "I just want it to be perfect for you, because you're perfect."

Hermione giggled a little, but not so much to embarrass him, "So stop worrying and let it be perfect." Bending her head down, she kissed his chest and rubbed all his muscles showing her appreciation for them. Lower and lower her lips went until she was at his waist and he was breathing heavily. _Stop resisting me._ As if her thoughts were some kind of spell, he gave in. She once again slipped her fingers under his waistband and slowly worked the fabric down. Lower, lower…

She was pulled back to reality as Mrs. Weasley trotted into the kitchen, donning her apron and waving her wand to start cooking. "Good morning." She sing-songed cheerfully. Hermione jumped back from Ron's ear where she had been whispering moments earlier. _I cannot wait to get out of here_.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry was immersed in a map of the country, searching for places he had yet to see. Magically, he zoomed in and out of locations on the enchanted parchment enabling him to see all the details of different regions. His eyes scanned all over, he had already explored most places close to home, if not on his own time, then when he, Ron, and Hermione were in hiding last year. Then his eyes leaped to one spot, it was on the Northern most tip of Ireland. The shore line looked like it had been carved out like an ancient arrowhead; Giant's Causeway. He vaguely remembered reading about that place once while in Hogwarts. Supposedly the ground itself possessed magical qualities. Either way, he didn't need much convincing in order to want to go.

Suddenly he was interrupted from his thoughts, "Hellooo?" came a playful voice on the other side of the door, it was Hermione. Harry quickly stowed his map away and went to answer the door.

When he opened it she was beaming up at him, "Oh, it's so good to see you, Harry." She said as she crossed the threshold to give him a big hug. He hugged tight back.

"You came alone?" he asked looking behind her.

She nodded, "I just wanted to stop by and say hello." She walked inside without waiting for an invitation, after all, weren't they passed invitations?

Harry stepped aside and closed the door behind her. "I'll make some tea." He said walking off to the kitchen while Hermione made herself comfortable on his sofa. "How have you been, Hermione?" He spoke over the clattering of pots and cupboard doors shutting.

"Really well," she said, "Did you get the last owl I sent you?"

Harry thought for a moment, had he? He wasn't usually home for long enough to receive letters before leaving to some distant location. Then he remembered, he had read a letter from her...

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? I'm okay. It's been a little frustrating for me here at the burrow. I love this family, but I would love it even more if Ron and I could have our own place. I envy you in that way. Or at least I did envy you, up until yesterday. Ron revealed to me that he had been saving up money from the long hours worked at the ministry, and now we can afford to move out! I feel a little useless since I can't pitch in much money, but I'm still hoping to spend my money on school. Anyway, we're going out today to look for a suitable place to move into. You must come and see it once we've moved in. I love you, Harry!_

_Hermione_

Harry felt a little terrible for not remembering right away. His two best mates were getting a place of their own and he hadn't thought much about it. _What a real ponce I am_, he thought to himself. So busy trying to satisfy his own need for… something he couldn't even name, and he was beginning to let his friends fall by the way side.

"Yeah, I did get that letter. So have you moved out of the burrow?" he asked hoping to redeem his selfishness.

She nodded happily, "Ron and I argued a bit about which place would be right for the both of us while taking into account the costs and everything. Well it's not the place where I plan to live until I'm gray and old but, well, we ended up choosing a flat just near here." She finished and watched his expression. She knew that he claimed to have come here for 'quiet alone time' but it really had ended up being the best choice for them, and so she hoped it would not offend his privacy. To her relief he didn't seem upset at all.

"Really?" Something shifted in his eyes and he seemed to be deciding something, "here along Diagon alley?"

"Not too close to here, but yes." She gestured with her hand, "It's further down, almost to the end, past Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. You ought to come see it." She looked hopeful.

Harry hesitated, glancing briefly at the spot where he had hidden his map, but thought about how immersed with himself he had been lately and resigned. "Yeah, alright." A smile broke on her face at his words and he was glad with his decision. "After tea though, I just put the kettle on." She nodded at his request.

They sat and spoke and sipped on their tea. Hermione was recalling some of the more hilarious moments of the past few weeks of her life and Harry was laughing harder than he had since before the war ended. The stress of that final battle had forced him into a shell, isolating himself, and he had forgotten how good it felt to be with his friend. And he couldn't help but notice how bright and beautiful Hermione's smile was. _Wait, what?_ He blinked at the sound of his own thoughts._ Of course she's beautiful, she's been my friend forever, and I've thought of her as being beautiful before_. His mind recalled the night in fourth year when she came to the ball all dressed up hanging on the arm of Viktor Krum._ Yes, she was definitely beautiful then the same way that she's beautiful now_. Of course her beauty wasn't the same. They had been fourteen then, and now they were all grown up. She had finally figured out how to keep her hair a bit less unruly, and her body had filled in all around. She was a woman now.

Suddenly Harry noticed that Hermione was no longer speaking and immediately felt a pang of guilt, though he wasn't sure why. He jumped up from his seat and placed his tea on the table, "Should we go see your flat, then? I'm all done with my tea." She looked a bit startled but set her tea down and agreed.

_That was a bit odd_, thought Hermione as they walked down Diagon alley,_ Harry has always been a bit of a spaz, but that was certainly odd_. She had noticed him staring at her. He was looking at her face, at her hair, at her lips, at her eyes. And when she asked him what he was seeing that was so amazing, he just sat there in silence, and then jumped up and decided they should go. She smirked to herself inwardly, _well you are rather pretty these days_. Dolling herself up had never been at the top of her priorities list, and it still wasn't. But it did make her feel good to be stared at like that sometimes, even if it was by her best mate. It wasn't as if she didn't think of him as rather handsome from time to time. There had been moments during school when they were growing up that she thought he was very cute. Not even cute, she had found him hot. His hair tousled and unkempt, those bright green eyes. _You're heart belongs to Ron_. She reminded herself, shaking away the thoughts of Harry's eyes. "Here we are," she presented lamely when she and Harry arrived at her flat. It was not above a shop like Harry's was, but a skinny two story apartment, Old fashioned like everything else around it, it was made of brick and had a black front door with cement steps leading up to it.

He commented on how nice it was, nicer than his certainly. She slid her key into the door and welcomed him inside. "Ron, Harry's here." She hollered up the stairs. A foyer was to the right, and a kitchen was behind it down the hall. After a moment of silence she told Harry to take a seat on her sofa and ran upstairs to retrieve Ron manually. But she quickly returned with a puzzled look on her face, "He wasn't up there. I don't know where he might have gone." She went over to sit next to Harry, "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Harry nodded, not all that concerned. His eyes inspected his surroundings. "So this is your house?" He noted the many books arranged on a rather large bookshelf and stood up to take a closer look. Hogwartts: A History; 101 Magical Creatures Not to Keep as Pets; Where Did All the Good Witches Go; St Mungo's Medical Encyclopedia; she seemed to have kept every book she ever read, and that was a lot. "It's so much more impressive seeing all the books you've read lined up like this." He stated.

She raised an eyebrow and gave a halfhearted laugh, "those are only my favorites." Harry turned to her with his eyebrows raised in amazement. Hermione began laughing at the goofy look on his face, and Harry started laughing too. When they were able to speak properly again she remarked, "I don't think a lot of people would use the word 'impressive' while referring to my obsession."

Harry looked at her, his head cocked to one side, "Those other people are probably morons." His words made Hermione laugh inwardly as she recalled the time that Ron declared that her need to purchase a massive bookcase was the result of her freakish obsession. _Ha, moron_. Normally she would find it too cruel to even think such things about the man that she loved, but there was no harm in just a tad bit of cruelty just every once in a while, she supposed. She looked down trying to hide her smirk. Harry noticed, though. He threw his chin back in question, "what's so funny?"

"You don't think I read too much?" she asked.

Harry gawked at her, sincerely shocked, "Hermione, you reading is what makes you you. If you didn't have your nose buried in a book half of the day, I would be almost certain that it wasn't actually you."

She giggled a little, "I do have chronic ink spots on the tip of my nose." They laughed together again for a little while. It felt good to know that Harry would always be there to support her lifestyle.

The two sat and spoke and laughed for quite a while longer, it was in mid laughing fit that Ron finally walked in the door. The sky had already begun to get dark.

"What am I missing out on?" Ron asked stepping into his home. He couldn't help but revert back to a little jealousy walking in on his best mate and his girl having a laughing fit together while he was away. He tried to bury the thought though.

Hermione jumped up on her feet, "Oh, Ron! You're finally home! Where were you all this time?" she walked over to him to give him a kiss hello.

He sighed, "I got called into work. Bloody ministry's having a fit about some death eater attacking a village…" he mumbled. Harry's ears perked up and Hermione looked thoroughly concerned.

"What happened?" Harry asked seriously. Ron walked into the foyer and plopped down on the couch opposite Harry. "Hello by the way. It's good to see you, mate."

Ron nodded a greeting at Harry."Aye, wish you could have come by when I'm not so worn out." Ron frowned, massaging the back of his neck.

"So, what happened?" Harry asked again.

Ron let out a big huff and began, "We think it's an old death eater. Like all the others he had gone into hiding as soon as Voldemort was dead. And, really, he wasn't anyone to stand out in the crowd. He wasn't the strongest of his bunch, or the cleverest. Of course the ministry was keeping an eye out for him, just like everyone else who was a death eater." He stopped for a moment and massaged his neck further.

Harry urged him on, "So, what happened?"

"Well it turns out the guy was a bit more of a threat than anyone expected. Or at least he is now… He was spotted last night in a muggle town. He completely terrorized it. I mean- completely." Ron spoke with a grave tone. He looked at Harry with a strange significance in his eye. "The ministry intended to track down any muggles who were caught up in the event in order to question them and wipe their memories."

"But?" asked Hermione sensing the 'but' in his voice.

"But there weren't any muggles to track down. He- he killed them all." Ron finished with a disgusted look on his face as if he had swallowed a lump of Hagrid's cooking.

Harry and Hermione exchanged worried looks. _He wiped out an entire town of muggles?_ Harry thought. This was no small time criminal like the other death eaters he had been running into. "Does the ministry know how he accomplished that?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head with worry laced on his face. "That's just it. They can sort of tell which spells were used, but things just aren't adding up. The guy was only one man, how he could have done this on his own, and without allowing anyone to escape? There's something missing from this puzzle. Something we're not seeing"

Hermione walked over to stand beside him and rubbed her hand on his back. "Should I make some tea?" she asked him sympathetically. He nodded and she disappeared into the kitchen.

Harry's mind whirled. He leaned back thinking, and then Ron continued, "he managed to cause all the buildings to collapse in on themselves. That's one way he was able to not leave any survivors. There are no signs of fires being lit, just collapsed buildings. And any muggle who wasn't inside a building at the time suffered a worse fate than being crushed by wooden beams." Hermione re entered the room with a pot of tea and three cups. She was now looking very concerned.

"A spell to bring down a whole building? He would certainly have to be a powerful wizard, but it isn't unheard of. What is it that's not adding up?"

"The bodies that were found inside of the homes," Ron responded looking between Harry and Hermione, "they were sitting at their dining room tables, or in front of their tele-whats-its, or even sitting on the loo. Every home was like this. It was almost as if they had no warning, like every building was crushed at exactly the same time, throughout the entire town. " He finished and looked at his two friends for some kind of response. He half hoped that they would tell him it wasn't as bad as it seemed, but they did not.

Harry leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees, "What's the wizard's name?"

"We're lucky to know that much. Obviously he wants to be known because he left an engraving on a stone wall just on the edge of the village: Remember Dimi Huarwar"

* * *

Harry stripped off his clothes and climbed into his bed. His head kept going back to what Ron had said. Dimi Huarwar. _What the bloody hell kind of name is Dimi Huarwar?_ Ron reckoned it could be an alias. Who could tell in a culture like this. There didn't seem to be a Huarwar family anywhere in the region though. Maybe he could help Ron out a bit, he knew a fair few people now days with quite a bit of interest gossip. Yes, he would investigate. _Back to the chase._


	5. Chapter 5

**More graphic sexiness this chapter just so you know.**

England was in the full throws of autumn now. Every day was a little colder than the last, and the Northern skies grew ever grayer. Harry paid it no mind, he was used to gloom. He wrapped his coat tightly around him as he traveled down the street of a distant wizard's village. The weather didn't dampen his mood, his lack of success did however. He was looking for information, anything, regarding what had happened in that muggle town a few weeks ago. Of course the ministry was not asking for his help in the matter, in fact as far as they knew, Ron had not broken his oath of secrecy at all. Ron didn't consider telling Harry and Hermione secret ministry business against the rules though. They simply didn't count as outsiders._ Not like the ministry has much information to divulge anyway_, Harry thought.

He had become quite concerned with the whole issue over the past few weeks. So much destruction in one day and the ministry seemed nearly helpless. The circumstances reminded him of another villain he once knew…

He had to keep searching for something. Someone with that kind of power left a trace. Yet so far, no one seemed to recognize a name like Dimi Huarwar. Well, one person had. Hermione had left a note under his door a few days ago when he was out. He came home to find the parchment scribbled with her handwriting.

_Harry, I may have found something about this Dimi Huarwar. I think Ron's right about it not being his real name. I'll let you know if I find anything else. Hermione_

Harry had thought it a little odd that Hermione came to him with this information rather than delivering it to Ron, _maybe she misses the adventure too_. Harry sighed and looked around, he was becoming a bit disgruntled with so many dead ends and decided to head to a local pup for food and a drink.

"Eh- hem, Harry Potter?" came a small voice from behind him as he sat in his seat, waiting for a drink. He turned to see a young woman standing with a piece of parchment and a quill in her hand. She was short, and blonde, and very pretty he thought.

"What can I do for you?" He asked politely. He became accustomed to being approached by strangers long ago.

She smiled cheerfully, no doubt glad that he was who she had thought he was. "My nephew would just think I was the greatest if I brought him home your autograph." She held out the quill and parchment questioningly. Her eyes gleamed and Harry wondered if she actually wanted the autograph for herself. He nodded and signed it though, quickly handing it back.

She took it back and stood for a moment too long, and Harry questioned, "Is there something else, miss?"

Her eyes darted nervously around for an instant before they again met Harry's, and he could see her melting. "It's only- I wanted to say how- how grateful I am for what you've done." He told her thanks, but that there were in fact many people who helped win the war. She shook her head aggressively, "You're too modest Mr. Potter. I've heard stories of what happened-"

"Stories? From reliable sources have you?" he asked with a smirk.

"Oh yes. Well, as reliable as they come, I suppose. More reliable than the Daily Prophet I'm sure." She hurried on. She looked a bit nervous now, like she was afraid she had offended him. But he was in no hurry to be offended, especially not from such a lovely woman.

"Wouldn't a story be most reliable when delivered straight from the source?" He asked teasingly. The woman's eyes lit up like a child's.

"You mean from you?" she asked in amazement. A few heads surrounding them now turned to face their direction. Once upon a time Harry might have loathed an experience like this. He was far away from home, though. And everyone knew the stories from someone else, he might as well tell them the way he wanted them known. Harry nodded and the woman's face broke out into a wide smile. Harry ordered two shots of fire whiskey and pulled out the chair adjacent to him for the lady to sit on.

"What's your name, miss?" He asked her as the fire whiskeys were delivered to the table.

She could hardly get out the words, "Bethany- Bethany Veda"

"Well then, Bethany" he said raising his glass to her, "here's to you" They both shot their drinks back, the burn lingering in Harry's throat before he began to talk.

He told her the story of when he was twelve years old and Voldemort's diary had been snuck into his best friend's sister's school supplies. He retold how it had possessed her, and how the basilisk had been awoken deep in the chamber of secrets. She listened in amazement to the whole thing, and by the end a few other people in the bar were listening in too. When that story was over, they demanded more.

"Only on one condition." Harry stated calmly to their demands.

"And what's that?" Asked one man. He was large with a large beard to match his large belly.

"On the condition that we receive another round of drinks."

The pub cheered and the drinks were served. Harry told them of the time he fought a dragon during the tri-wizard tournament, but they wanted stories of Voldemort and how he had been defeated. And as the drinks kept coming, Harry's stories kept coming too. He told them about battling Voldemort the night of his return, about battling Voldemort's army of inferi in his enchanted lake cave. He told them about the night of the Final Battle at Hogwarts, his descriptions ever more vivid and theatrical for every drink he took.

"Did you really die that night?" asked a man who had taken a seat around the long table where Harry was sitting. He was wobbling in his chair with one eye closed.

"You know no magic can bring the dead back to life." Harry said to the man. He was not going to disclose what actually happened that night, and he certainly was not going to disclose the reason he had died,_ because part of Voldemort was living inside me and I needed to kill it_.

Bethany spoke, "but you did, didn't you?" she looked at him hopefully. Wherever she was receiving her information was a reliable source indeed. He looked at her face. Every wizard knew (and muggles knew too) that the dead could not be brought back to life. Yet he had been.

"Something happened to me that night," he said to his audience. "I couldn't say if it was death or not, I have no one to verify my experience."

Everyone continued to debate with one another whether or it was even possible for Harry to have died that night, and the drunken discussion seemed to have occupied most of the people all the way to their beds. Harry remained sitting in the same spot with Bethany, only a few other people left in the pub. He was thoroughly inebriated and kept fantasizing about his soft bed. _Can't apparate like this, I'd splinch myself in half_, he thought.

Bethany seemed to have sensed his thoughts, for right at that moment she asked, "Obviously you're not from here. Do you have a place to sleep for tonight?" He didn't want to say no, he could pay for a room at the inn after all. But she continued, "I wouldn't recommend sleeping in one of these beds," she pointed her finger upstairs, "unless you've brought your own sheets."

"That bad, eh?"

She giggled and nodded. "You're welcome to stay on my sofa if you'd like. I've got lots of clean linens" Harry thought for a moment, but only a moment, he was so tired already.

"That actually sounds wonderful."

She led him up the street to her home. They both stumbled inside, although she stumbled a little less than he did, and she sent him to the couch. "I'll grab you some blankets, make yourself comfortable" she said before disappearing into the other room.

_Lucky me_, he thought, _I've got this pretty girl all to myself, if only I wasn't completely exhausted_. He yawned and laid his head back on the sofa.

She returned with blankets, but she didn't seem content on letting Harry sleep just yet. "Harry Potter" she whispered to him, hoping he hadn't fallen asleep yet.

He opened one eye to look at her. "What can I do for you?"

She smiled and reached her hands out his chest where they caressed up and down, "well, since you're asking…" she leaned forward and breathed into his ear. He felt a little numb, and he was so tired, but she didn't seem to mind. "Let me make you more comfortable." She reached her hands to the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head and kissed his toned body. As she kissed closer and closer to his waist he felt a little less tired and a little more interested in what she was doing. She kissed all the way to his waist and let her tongue glide along the hem of his pants. He sat up fully and removed her shirt too, to which she did not in the slightest protest.

Her hands traveled all over his body until he was all hot from her touch. _Okay, I'm awake_. She climbed on top of him kissing his neck and massaging her body against his until he couldn't take it anymore. As her hands moved up to touch his neck he grabbed one with one hand and used his other arm to swiftly wrap around her body and spin her until he was resting on top of her. He grabbed her other hand and raised them both above her head, licking and nibbling her neck. She arched her back and pressed into him moaning while she did. He slid his hand down between her breasts and down her stomach, sliding them into her pants to which she gasped and moaned some more. He smirked to himself; _it's not so bad, being a celebrity..._

* * *

The next morning Harry awoke with a pounding head. He groaned as he sat up, one hand cradling his forehead. He looked down, _Oh yeah_, he thought viewing his nude body from underneath the blanket. He looked around the room, able to absorb his surroundings in the morning light. It was bright and airy with decorations of sea shells and ocean scenes. Then he spotted his clothes, strewn haphazardly on the floor. He quickly dressed and sat back down on the couch, thinking. The previous night had been fun, but now back to reality and the reason he had come to this town in the first place. _Dimi Huarwar._

Then he heard steps coming from the other room and Bethany came to stand in the doorway. She leaned against the frame and cocked her head to one side looking at Harry. "'morning," she said sweetly.

Harry responded with a kind "good morning" but did not lift his head from the palm that it was now resting on.

Bethany gave him a saddened look, "I'm sorry, did I- is something wrong?"

Harry looked up at her, eyebrows raised, "No, well, nothing you did so don't worry about it." He stood up figuring that he had already stayed longer than he should have.

"Don't suppose I could be of any help?" she asked hopefully.

Harry was about to say no when a thought occurred to him. "Well actually," he looked at her hesitantly, "Does Dimi Huarwar mean anything to you." It was worth a shot.

She took a sip of her tea, "Yeah, of course." Harry blinked. "Well the bit about Huarwar anyway." She shrugged as if it was of no consequence.

Harry couldn't believe it, "Would you mind divulging that information?"

She laughed with an air of confusion, "Well sure, Huarwar the Hungry. He was one of the three plagues of Cornwall. He consumed everything until there was nothing left. Not much to the story really…" She trailed off in thought.

_Of course_, thought Harry. And then another thought occurred to him._ Consumed everything until there was nothing left?_ He needed to get to Ron.

* * *

Hermione sat in her bed, tea at her side and book in hand. _It sure is a good thing I love to read so much or I would be getting really annoyed right about now_, she thought sarcastically. This was the fourth time this week that she had to 'tuck herself in'. Ron was being asked to work extra until this Dimi Hwarwar was found and sentenced. She had begun putting a lot of her attention into helping him find out anything he could regarding the case just to try and bring him back home. _Bloody hell, I've finally got my boyfriend in a private home all to myself and he's never here!_ She was quickly losing patience with the situation. She was no loose woman, but she had needs after all._ Always bloody busy, and when he's not busy he's exhausted_. She cut her thoughts off and took three deep breaths. This was just the result of working for the ministry. Once the case was closed, things would be okay.

She tried to relax and turned back to the pages of her book; Runes of Ancient Civilizations: Deciphering the Past. She had been staring at the same page for an hour, unable to pull her thoughts away from Ron's unsatisfying new behavior. Now she attempted to shift her focus back on her reading. It was a new book she had just ordered through owl. Ancient runes had been an obsession (as Ron would call it) of hers for many years already. As her mind scanned over words on the page something caught her eye. _Dimi_. What's this now? Her finger traced over the description of the word. It was Aramaic, and it meant destruction or loss. She scoffed out loud at the thought that she managed to figure this out and the Ministry hadn't. Dimi Huarwar. _Well Ron's not home so maybe I'll take my finding to Harry. We were always the problem solvers anyway_. Tomorrow that's what she would do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ok, so school's almost over and I've been having to focus on writing lots of long and difficult papers and so I'm not going to be able to post chapters as often as I would like. BUT they are coming, so please be patient with me. Hold out and you get rewarded with a delicious story . The next one will likely be up in a week or two.  
**

Hermione awoke the next morning to Ron rushing to dress. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows. "Work again?" she asked him, already knowing the answer. He stopped his rushing momentarily and looked at her.

"There's been another incident," he said with a frown. Hermione leaned back into her pillow, a bit too groggy to care yet, "It was in another remote muggle town. "

Hermione grunted, "So you'll be working even more now, then?"

He offered a lame excuse to her for why he had to go, but she paid no attention. She just laid in bed and waited for him to leave. She suddenly wondered if this was better than living at the burrow. _Definitely_, she reminded herself, _Ron's only stressed from his work…_

She laid for a while with her eyes open and let the sun light dance through the window on her face. It was dim, but it felt nice. Her thoughts wandered slowly through the air and rested again on Dimi Huarwar. Suddenly she was motivated to get up and ready for her day. When she was primed and proper she left for Harry's.

* * *

When she arrived she knocked and waited a few minutes for an answer, but there was none. _Maybe he's still in bed_, she wondered. Her eyes turned up to the sky, it was nearly noon. She supposed he could be sleeping in and knocked again, but again there was no answer. Giving up she turned and headed back down the stairs. But on her way down, there he was. "Oh," she spoke to a surprised looking Harry, "I was just looking for you."

He cocked an eyebrow, "Oh yeah?" He slid past her and continued up the stairs, "Funny, I was looking for you too." Her eyes followed him and she trailed behind back up to his door.

"Why were you looking for me?" She asked as they both entered his home. She eyed a bag he had draped over his shoulder through which he was now rifling. He pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment and set it on the coffee table. Then he looked back at her.

"I think I found something." He sat on his couch and leaned back, "What about you?"

Hermione walked over and sat down next to him, "I think I've found something too. It's not much but…" she looked at his waiting face. It was different somehow than how she'd remembered it, more… reckless. She continued, "I was reading through one of my books on ancient runes and I noticed a word that's become rather familiar."

"His name."

"Yes," said Hermione not all that surprised by his perceptiveness. "Dimi, it's an Aramaic word meaning loss and destruction. If this is an invented name, like-"

"-Voldemort." Said Harry gravely.

"Yes, then he chose this name for a reason. Using a word meaning destruction as his title certainly reflects possible intentions of his."

Harry furrowed his brow in thought, "I suspect you're right. I found out what Huarwar means and I came to about the same conclusion. Huarwar the Hungry."

Hermione slapped her hand to her forehead, "Oh, of course! One of the three plagues of Cornwall!"

Harry gaped at her. "Are you serious?"

"I hadn't recognized it before, but now that you say it I remember. It's an old story from the days of King Arthur. Huarwar the Hungry has an insatiable appetite and eats everything in sight, even things that one would normally not eat." She stared off in thought. "I suppose this is rather bad then. Destruction and an insatiable appetite." She looked into Harry's eyes with worry. "He's attacked again you know."

Harry looked back into her eyes, his own laced with a bit of pain, "I know."

"Did Ron tell you?" She asked, wondering how he would have had time to do so.

Harry shook his head and looked away. "I saw it." He gulped, "It was wretched, Hermione."

For a moment she wasn't sure what to say. _He saw it?_ "When? How?"

Harry looked back at her and let out a tired sigh. "In my travels. I suppose that old magnet in me attracting me to trouble led me to it. Some bloody luck." He laughed darkly. "I don't know what he's using to accomplish this destruction, but it's extraordinary. Hermione, _I've_ never seen anything like it, and that's saying something."

He was quiet for a moment, but Hermione had to ask, "What did you see?"

He shook his head as if not wanting to remember, "An insatiable appetite for destruction sounds about right for this bloke. It was about the same as what Ron described to us weeks ago, only, he didn't do it justice. These buildings weren't just collapsed, they were- consumed." He was looking down now, his eyes focused on something Hermione could not see. "Ron's right, something is missing from this puzzle. One wizard couldn't have done this, not with the magic that I'm familiar with anyway. It was too much, too vast."

The look on his face almost frightened Hermione. She had only ever seen Harry react like this before to one man's destruction; Voldemort. _Could it really be that bad?_

Harry shook the thoughts from his head and spoke again, "Why can't things just stay okay?"

Hermione's heart twitched at the sound of his words. She knew everything he had gone through in the past and how much it had relieved her to see his enemies vanquished. Now it was torturing her to see him distressed over something so horrible all over again. Instinctively she moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "This doesn't have to be your battle, you know?" He let out a puff as if he hardly believed that. She looked up at him and pulled his face down so she could see his eyes, "I suppose you feel obligated to play hero, but really, it doesn't have to be your fight."

Harry peered down into Hermione's eyes, something special and soft residing inside them. Something he hadn't found in Bethany's eyes, this was much sweeter and more familiar. He wanted to believe her words, but couldn't seem to. Dimi Huarwar needed to be stopped before he became too big to be stopped. If only he could find him, Harry was sure there was something he could do.

Half of him wanted to pretend he had never learned about Dimi Huarwar in the first place. Someone else would have to step in and take care of this, wouldn't they? Harry felt his heart being wretched around his chest as he thought of the final battle at Hogwarts. He wanted action, but he was being tortured by it. He looked at Hermione's comforting eyes, "I just want to forget about all this right now." He didn't entirely mean those words, but in that instant, he wished he could totally forget.

Hermione's face crumpled a bit as she spoke softly to, "I'm so sorry Harry."

He knew that she understood exactly what he was feeling in that moment. She had been there too, right by his side the whole time that he struggled to save the whole world. And in that moment he felt the closeness of their friendship and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to feel it more. "I'm glad you're here right now."

"Me too." She said, eyes closed and snuggled next to his chest. Her heart thumped hard but slow in her chest as she rest her ear on Harry listening to his own heartbeat.

Harry sat with her for a little while, smelling her hair and listening to her breathe. It was intoxicating and he was nearly lost in it until a thought suddenly charged his brain. He imagined Ron entering jovially through the door, smile on his face ready to greet his best mate. And he pictured the way that smile would turn to anger and hurt at the sight of what he was doing on the couch with Hermione. _We're not actually doing anything_, he thought. But he knew that Ron wouldn't see it so clearly. Harry imagined Ron hurling himself at Harry and pummeling him in the face, all thoughts of magic out the window as Ron's worst suspicions finally became confirmed.

Harry grabbed Hermione's shoulders and lifted her gently away from him. "You should probably go, Hermione." She looked at him a little confused. Still, he stood up completely removing himself from her grasp, "when does Ron get home from the ministry?" he asked hoping to find a good excuse to kick her out.

She gave a bit of a puff and rolled her eyes, "If only I knew." She seemed cross with him and another jolt of guilt ran through Harry's system. _That's not the real reason she came here is it?_

Harry thought he might have a miniature fit of panic now, Ron's angry face creeping back into his mind's eye. He quickly threw out an excuse. "I've got to head out of London for a bit. A favor a promised to a friend." Hermione tilted her head curiously, "will you tell Ron to find me next time he's home?"

Hermione looked at the ground for a moment and Harry was hoping he hadn't said something wrong. Then again, maybe that would be a good thing. He was feeling far too fond of her right now.

She said she understood and would deliver his message, adding at the end, "You should really consider getting another owl."

Harry smirked, "Hedwig would be jealous in the after life. Wouldn't want to make anyone jealous now would I?" Hermione seemed to have picked up the underlying message in his words and departed soon afterwords.

Harry was left alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Hermione reentered her home in a strange mood. _Should I feel bad about what just happened?_ Either way, she did. She felt guilty for her visit with Harry as her thoughts swarmed her mind like a flood. She knew it was horrid, but it had felt wonderful to sit with Harry, resting against his body. She made herself feel a little sick._ I can't believe you, Hermione!_ She thought to herself. How could she do this to Ron?_ Do what?_ _Have thoughts?_ He began arguing with herself, trying to justify her new feelings. It was just the touch, that was just nice. She convinced herself that if she spent some more intimate time with Ron, these thoughts would go away.

She headed upstairs to shower and make herself as irresistible as she could for her man when he came home that night.

* * *

Ron sighed heavily as he apparated in onto Diagon Alley. He was tired and sick of thinking about bloody Dimi Huarwar. _I just want to go home and see Hermione. Thank Merlin this day is almost over._ He rubbed his forehead a little and headed up the street towards his flat.

When he arrived and stepped inside his attention was immediately stolen by a sweet smell encompassing the air around him. Almost like someone had been baking cookies all day long, it reminded him of home. He closed his eyes and breathed it in. As he shut the door behind him and removed his cloak he noticed something else; a drop dead gorgeous woman standing at the top of the staircase staring back at him. He couldn't help but gulp. "Hermione, where did you get those robes?" He asked in awe.

She blushed a little but held her head high, "You like them?" They were silky and lacy and didn't cover all that much at all. She had bought them a while back but had never been brave enough to pull them out. Now looking at Ron's face, she was glad she had. He was glad too.

"I love them, you look amazing." He said, unable to take his eyes off her. _This wonderful girl, she must have read my thoughts._ Almost unconsciously he floated up the stairs to meet her, his hands reaching out to feel her beautiful body. Hermione took one step back, just out of his reach, and grabbed his hand. Ron looked up into her eyes and there was fire inside them. But she said nothing as she led him away from the stairs and into their bedroom.

He was speechless as she pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top, wrapping her legs around his body. Leaning down she kissed his lips, and then his chin, and down his neck and to his collar bone. He let out a pleased groan and laid back on the bed. _I must have done something very nice lately_, he thought, unable to imagine what it was he did to deserve this royal treatment.

As she kissed all around his neck, her hands searched for the buttons on his shirt and undid them one by one and as she did she continued to kiss and lick every bit of skin that was exposed. When she finally got his shirt off, she rubbed her hands all over his torso, trying her hardest to make him feel appreciated.

Though he had been exhausted only a little while earlier, Ron seemed to have forgotten all about being tired. His heart was now beating hard in his chest and his blood was coursing through him. His hands reached up to the little straps around Hermione's shoulders and brushed them down, allowing her robes to hang just a little lower. She pushed into his touch and breathed sweetly showing her appreciation.

Months ago this act would have been utterly horrifying. Exciting, but horrifying. _Hermione Granger, here in my home, our home, striving to please me_. He smiled a little at the thought of how lucky he had come to be. All he wanted to do was please her. As her hands glided around his abdomen and around the edge of his pants, he realized that he wasn't sure what to do next. Instinctively he helped her remove his trousers.

He laid there, exposed, in all his glory. He felt a little self-conscious but his eyes distracted him from that as he watched Hermione's body work. He watched her lips as they kissed the skin around his belly and up his legs. He watched her hips as they swayed side to side. He reached down to grab her robes and began to pull them up over her head. She helped him along and soon they were both free of all of their textile confines.

After thoroughly kissing around his most sensitive parts, Hermione's mouth moved back up his torso all the way to his face, where she looked at him sweetly. His eyes met hers and he was speechless at her beauty. One of Ron's hands reached up to cup her cheek and the other reached down to her waist, feeling it up and down tenderly. This was the girl that he loved and he wanted to treat her like a princess. He didn't want her to feel taken advantage of. But she didn't feel that way. She felt eager as the heat between her legs spread throughout her whole body.

Sensing his unwillingness to initiate, Hermione reached her hand down and urged him on. They both let out huffs and moans as the rhythm of their movements brought them closer together. Ron's mind went blank as it was filled with pure ecstasy. His body shuttered under Hermione's as his world filled with white light.

* * *

Hermione lay beside a sleeping Ron, twirling his hair in her fingers. _That was fun_, she thought to herself, _but it would have been better if I had time to finish. _She huffed a little before closing her eyes and letting herself fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

A/n: Okay, So I'm REALLY sorry that this took so long to post. Real life got in the way, I won't bore you with the details. Anyway. Enjoy!

Chapter 7

A cold wind blew through a crack in Harry's window filling the house with cool air. It would still be a few weeks until winter, but the signs were strong that it had already arrived. Harry walked to the window and forced the window closed as much as he could, though the old wooden frame left a small crack still open. He frowned at it and turned to put on a sweater, _I bet Hermione knows a spell to fix this_. Instead he just cast a warming charm around himself as he sat on his couch.

Traveling through the countryside was slightly less entertaining now that it was getting so much colder. But Dimi had attacked again, twice, always in the same way. Nearly the same way that is. The most recent attack Dimi had left an extra surprise for the ministry's aurors to find; the body of a pregnant muggle woman stuck on a spike with his usual signature carved into her flesh; Remember Dimi Huarwar. Harry hadn't seen it, a fact for which he was grateful. But he couldn't get the thought out of his imagination. This is a very sick man. Harry thought in disgust. Upon examining the woman's body, they found that she had been pregnant with a wizard's child, a mudblood. Is that why he chose her? Harry was almost sure it was. Voldemort's preaching about pure magical blood stuck with many of his followers. Now, even with his defeat, his message continued on. It made Harry's blood boil.

Harry wanted to find Huarwar. To curse him to oblivion. Finish the job he had thought was finished when he killed Voldemort. He knew now how naive he had been to think that Voldemort's death would bring peace.

Harry pulled his map out, now crumpled and worn from use. He looked at the four little dots he had placed marking the locations of Dimi Huarwar's attacks. He was looking for a pattern, a trail, a sign. Anything. His mind swarmed with ideas just as it had the last one hundred times he had looked at the map. There was no trail, no pattern to be seen. The villages that had been attacked were all in completely different regions of the country. He must be missing something, some bit of information. Of course he didn't actually work for the ministry, so perhaps they knew more, though he doubted it. From his inside information, provided by Ron, the ministry was as useless as ever. He considered going to the ministry to offer his assistance, after all, they didn't seem to mind him acting as vigilante when he brought them missing ex-death eaters. And he was sure Kingsley would have no problem fitting Harry into their staff.

As he pondered the idea, his eyes noticed a corner of the map he had forgotten. Less than a hundred miles away from the first attack; Giant's Causeway. He remembered how he had wanted to go there before being distracted all those nights ago by Hermione knocking on his door. He wondered now what might have happened if he had chosen to go.

_I can go now though can't I,_ he thought to himself. Then he looked out the window at the bleak, gray sky and thought of how much farther north he was about to travel. _Better grab a cloak._

At the beginning of summer, after the war had ended, Harry had splurged a bit and bought himself an all new wardrobe. One fit for a man who had saved the world. As he was donning his rather smart looking winter cloak, a familiar knock came at the door.

He walked over to let Hermione in but was a bit surprised to see Ron standing at the door. "Hey, mate." He greeted him happily, though curiously. Ron had been so busy lately he hadn't stopped by much at all since the beginning of the Dimi Huarwar case. Though they had sent each other a few owls, any free time Ron did have he gladly spent it with Hermione.

Ron looked tired but cracked a smile at his best mate, " 'ey, how've you been, Harry?" he greeted as he stepped past Harry's welcoming gesture. "I've been a bit of a bloody mess myself." He said not waiting for harry to respond.

They both sat on Harry's sofa as they spoke. "Oh, you know." He responded lamely. His mind flitted to the thought of a lovely girl with a spike through her belly and he remembered that it was rather amazing that Ron had time to be here. "How have _you_ been? The ministry making any progress?"

Ron raised the corner of one lip, "a bit I suppose. Never enough to find Huarwar before he makes another attack though, or to even have any decent suspects." He paused for a moment and Harry wondered if Ron was going over the same horrible image in his head that Harry was. Then he looked up at Harry with a thought, "Were you going somewhere?" Ron asked noticing Harry's cloak.

"Oh, yeah I was." Harry stated pulling his map out to show Ron. "I was going to head there a while back but never made it out the door. I had forgotten all about it until today." He rolled the map out and pointed to the spot he was referring to. Ron leaned in and looked.

"What's there?" He asked inspecting the map closely.

Harry shrugged, "I don't know, I've never been there before."

Ron eyed Harry curiously, "is that what you've been up to all this time? Just… going to places you've never been?"

"Not the whole time…" Harry responded a bit uncomfortably quickly rolling up his map. He felt a bit silly for it now hearing how it sounded out loud, like he was just wasting time.

"Bloody hell," Ron leaned back, stretching his hands behind his head, "that sounds fantastic." Harry blinked. Ron continued, "really, I mean just goin' out there, bein' free, doin' whatever you please. A right lot better than working at the ministry I bet." His eyes became glassy like he was dreaming about the thought.

"Have you got a cloak?" asked Harry.

Ron jerked his head to look at Harry, "what do you mean? Of course I've got a cloak."

Harry stood, "then come with me."

Ron shook his head, "I can't, I haven't got time." He seemed to be turning over the possibility in his head, though.

"If you haven't got the time then why did you stop by?" Harry asked testily. Normally he would prefer to travel alone anyways, but he was sure Ron could use a getaway by the looks of him, and today the thought of roaming the country with Ron just like old times woke a longing inside Harry to share the adventure just like they used to. .

Ron looked down and a flush swept up his face and suddenly Harry was sorry he asked. Ron spoke without looking up, "actually, mate, I wanted to ask you something. It's a bit personal. I trust you though."

Harry saw how uncomfortable Ron had suddenly become and was a bit worried now at what the question was. He found himself hoping Ron would lose courage and decide not to ask, but the Gryffindor inside Ron won and Harry's hope was not met.

Ron shuffled his feet as he spoke, "Right, I guess I'll just ask then. It's just- Well, how- I mean, what- well- have you ever- have you made a girl- you know, um, finish?" With every word he turned a deeper shade of red until his ears were the color of a tomato.

"Um, well, yeah- I mean, I think so." For the sake of friendship Harry attempted to be mature about this. He tried to forget that this conversation most certainly pertained to Hermione and did what he could to cast the image of her and Ron in bed together out of his head. Harry sat back down across from Ron and waited for him to speak. He was a bit relieved that this was all, he had feared worse.

"It's just, I can't ask one of my brothers, they'd never let me hear the end of it. Or my dad," he gave a little shiver of disgust, "as if I need that kind of image in my head." Harry shivered a little too. "I just feel like a git ya know? I feel like- like she's expecting me to know what I'm doing and to be honest, I don't know what I'm doing. "

Harry thought for a moment on how to go about talking to Ron without it being entirely awkward but decided it was what it was. Avoiding the fact that most of his experience came from being with Ron's little sister, he delved into the topic with as much grace as possible. After all, what are friends for?

* * *

Hermione sat alone at a little table in a café not far from her house. Her eyes darted to the window for the umpteenth time as she flattened the wrinkles in her dress. She looked rather dashing if she was being blunt. Her dress was red, a striking contrast to the winter gloom that had covered London for the past few months. The bottom hem fell just below her knee to reveal her knitted wool stockings and her smart looking boots. She had dressed up for Ron, not that it took much to impress him, he loved the way she looked in any set of clothes. But that all didn't matter anyway because he wasn't there to see what she looked like.

Ron had been so overwhelmingly busy with finding any clues about the Dimi Huarwar case that he barely had any time to spend with her, so they had agreed on setting time aside specifically to see each other. It was his idea to have a date at this café, but he was late now. Hermione let out a sad sigh. She knew it would be because of work. She knew that it killed Ron just as much as it killed her to not be able to spend time together, but it didn't change the facts. Work was consuming her lover. She gazed into her cup of tea, watching the swirls as if they held some sort of answer to apply to her and her lover's predicament when she heard a familiar frustrated huffing and grunting approach her table. Her head shot up as a sappy smile climbed over her face at the sight of Ron approaching. He hardly noticed though, and she was sure she could see a cloud of fuzzy irritation hovering around his head and following him like a storm cloud. Her smile faltered for a moment as she acknowledged the tired frown planted on his face.

When he reached the table he slumped into the chair opposite her and began answering Hermione's question without her asking it. "We may have found something about the case." He grunted out. "I was asked to stay late to see if it was valid, and I think it was." He stated with the smallest hint of satisfaction, but Hermione was the one frowning now.

"If that's true then why do you seem so upset?" She questioned. His bad mood was oozing out of him and she needed to know why.

"Because I had a hot date tonight." He smiled at her shyly. "I'm sorry I made you wait. I'm such an arse-"

"Well you're here now though," she offered quickly knowing that if she allowed him to begin a journey of self-directed insults, the self-loathing could last all night. Eager to distract him, and out of genuine curiosity, she hurried on, "What was it that you found about the case?"

His eyes brightened for a moment as he recalled the day's events. "It was a crest."

Her tilted her head in question "You mean like-?"

"A family crest." He finished for her, his voice laced with significance.

Hermione's eyes widened, "Oh but the implications of that! The ministry thinks the family crest is this Dimi Huarwar's family crest?" He shrugged an evident 'we think so' but she hurried on before he could speak. "But surely he wouldn't leave behind something to reveal himself so effectively. He's obviously not an idiot or he would have done something by now, slipped up somehow." She shook her head, "Where did it come from?"

"A letter" Hermione opened her mouth to respond again but then firmly clamped it shut. "The ministry received a letter two days ago that we presume is from Huarwar. We don't think it could be an imposter because the press hasn't exploded with this story yet so no one really knows about it." Hermione looked utterly shocked now.

"Was it hand written? How was it delivered? What did it say?"

"Well it confirmed what we'd thought; this is about blood purity. A bloody Voldemort sympathizer." He spat and shook his head in disgust at the last words before continuing. "It also suggested that the attacks up until now have been rather tame. The ministry's taking the words as a pretty obvious threat, or rather a _promise_, that another attack is coming soon. And if destroying a whole village is tame, I'm really not looking forward to whatever this guy has in store for next time." He trailed off and Hermione sat in her seat in shock. His words sent a chill up her spine. _He's barely begun, then_.

"And the crest?" She urged him on.

"Right!" he seemed to only remember that that had been Hermione's original question. "It was on the letter. At the bottom where he signed, just next to his name was a wax seal and that was it. A pretty big clue we suspect." He didn't continue so she urged him on, begging for more details.

"What did it look like? Which family did it belong to?"

He paused for a moment before he stated, "It was black and white, with three crows. The most noble and ancient house of Black."

* * *

Hermione shrugged out of her dress and into some loose pajama bottoms and a baggy t shirt. Her mind was wandering through her conversation with Ron at the café.

…"But there is no one still alive who belongs to the house of Black." She had pointed out to Ron, though he wasn't convinced.

"Someone must be left, otherwise, what? Someone used the seal just for the fun of it? This isn't coincidence."…

She climbed under her thick covers casting a warming charm in them first to ward of the early winter chill. When Ron came walking into the room ready to climb in next to her, her eyes followed him wearily. "Are you going to tell him?" She didn't have to specify who she was referring to.

He sighed, "s'pose I'll have to won't I? I wouldn't be much of a friend if I didn't. A black was the closest thing Harry had to family." He wrapped a warm arm around Hermione as he climbed in bed next to her. "I always tell him about the case anyway, don't know why he didn't become an auror or something else. He's obviously interested in helping solve this case…"

Hermione thought for a moment, "I guess he just wanted some time to be away from the ministry for a while after everything that happened."

"He can hardly resist the action though can he? I mean with all the ex-death eaters he's brought in for us. He says he wants peace and quiet but it seems like he goes out looking for trouble."

Hermione frowned a little, "Well it wasn't long ago that everyone said that same thing about us. But it was always the trouble that came looking for us, wasn't it?"

* * *

A cold stole Harry's senses as he sat perched on a ledge overlooking the sea. It was indeed beautiful here. And magical. He could sense that as soon as he apparated in. The whole area cracked and whizzed with unspoken traces of magic. He wondered what sort of history a place like this had in the magical community and made a mental note to ask her Hermione about it.

The Giant's Causeway was stacked high with sharp cliffs under constant bombardment from the ruthless waves of the sea. The rock formations defied imagination as they took geometrical shapes and towered out of the water. Harry breathed in deep, sucking in the salty smell all around him. His thoughts drifted to the long years of a little boy trapped inside of a small cupboard and he relished the spray of the water all the more. Life was rather good now. Even though his thoughts were sometimes overcome with memories of the war, of his losses, wounds so fresh from less than a year ago, he knew he could survive them with life this good.

"Just keep tragedy away from me for a while." He requested of some forgotten deities. He shut his eyes tight for a moment as Dimi Huarwar entered his brain, threatening to shatter his peace.

_Well, I do like a little action_, he admitted to himself. _just not the tragedy_.

He sat there for a long while, savoring the world around him, until the chill finally worked its way under his skin and the long winter sun began to retreat behind the water. Deciding to pop in for a drink before aparating home, he headed for the nearby muggle pub he'd noticed on his way in. Once inside he found it mostly deserted except for a few locals, the bitter cold having scared away the tourists for the season. He headed to the bar and ordered a pint. Sipping it slowly, he was oblivious to the eyes that had been on him since he entered the room. As he drank and relished the warmth in the pub a voice came from behind his ear.

"I wasn't expecting to see a face like yours in a place like this." His head shot around to find where the voice had come from, and his green eyes met with dark brown ones. A tall woman with fair skin and long hair much darker than her eyes took a seat on the stool next to Harry. She calmly sipped on her drink as he watched her.

"Sorry, do I know you?" he asked politely. He was sure he didn't know any muggles, and especially none from this region. Yet the strange clothing the woman was wearing led to the theory now forming in his head.

"I'm certain you don't," she responded smartly, "But I know you. Of course, any wizard not living under a rock for the past sixteen years knows who you are, don't they?" her eyes watched him over her glass as she spoke.

"You're a witch." He stated matter of factly. She gave a little tilt of her head to acknowledge the truth in his statement.

"So what brings you all the way out to these quiet parts, Harry Potter?" She asked arching a dark eyebrow his way.

He eyed her warily, not sure what it was about the witch that was niggling at the back of his mind with suspicion. "The quiet I suppose. And what about you? There's no wizarding town around here for miles."

She shrugged, "I'm just looking for a place to get my head straight. This place has a very balancing effect on me." Harry watched her curiously; she was so unlike most other wizards and witches he met. She obviously knew who he was and surely knew all about his colorful history and involvement in the war. Yet she hardly seemed interested in him at all. She just sat there, drinking her pint, her long black locks falling all around her. "You really should be careful about where you wander, Harry Potter. A famous face like yours has quite a price on it. You wouldn't want to land yourself in harms way."

"I'm rather practiced at working my way around harm, actually." He stated flatly.

The corner of her mouth curved up almost into a smirk, "So I've heard." She took a finishing sip of her drink, "Some rather strange happenings have graced the country side recently. Danger's no stranger around here."

"So I've heard," he offered her phrase back to her.

Her eyes darted to his before, in one fluid motion she stood and turned for the door. "I'll see you around Harry Potter." She said over her shoulder before she walked away.

"You haven't told me _your_ name." he called back at her, attempting to not sound so mesmerized by the encounter, but she only gave him a wave of her hand and she was gone.

He turned back to his drink and stared into the foam, not sure what to make of what just happened. He wasn't surprised that a witch had recognized him, that sort of thing happened to him all the time. In fact, it was one of the few reasons he sometimes enjoyed visiting muggle pubs, just to get away from the awe struck stares. So many witches and wizards were eager to just get a hand shake from not only the-boy-who-lived, but also the-boy-who-died-and-came-back-to-kill-the-most-powerful-dark-wizard-in-history. He could hardly blame people for their star struck gazes. Yet this witch had been far from any of that. Somehow she had him completely awe struck over their brief encounter, rather than the other way around.

Harry gulped down the rest of his beer and headed outside. Still mulling over the strange meeting, he stepped into a shadow behind a tree and disappeared with a crack.

* * *

When Harry woke the next morning, it was to the sound of an owl tapping at his window. He opened a sleepy eye and rose to open the window, recognizing Ron's owl as it entered. Harry removed the scroll and, stifling a yawn, he read the letter:

_Harry, I've finally got some time, let's get together. How about a few drinks down at the local? I'll be off by six tonight. Owl me if you can meet me there. I've got some things I need to tell you._

Harry took out his quill and wrote a quick note of acceptance before attaching it to Ron's owl and sending the bird away. He wondered lazily about Ron's letter, What could he have to tell m_e? At least I know what I'm doing tonight._

_A/n: One more thing, I know that there is a bit of disagreement about what the Black family crest actually looks like, but for the sake of my plot line, I'm using the crest from the films which has the three black crows on it and diagonal black stripes up top. From what I understand J.K. Rowling drew up a different crest when she published the Black family tree, but as I said I'm not her and I don't Harry Potter and all that. I did mention that right? Well, yeah, I don't own anything so I do what I want. And sorry if you don't agree, but like I said it's for the sake of my plot line.  
_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Hermione stared wide eyed at the Daily Prophet, taking in the headline that stared back at her.

** FIVE MUGGLE TOWNS WIPED OFF THE MAP: What the ministry hasn't been telling you.**

There had been another attack, and the ministry couldn't keep it quiet any longer. Though they put their best efforts into avoiding a panic, it appeared that Rita Skeeter had finally gotten her hands on the story. Hermione began to read:

_The wizarding world joined in celebration last May at the death of You-Know-Who. The most dangerous dark wizard in history had finally been defeated by our very own champion, Harry Potter. But while we slept in our beds, sure that we were safe and secure, it seems another threat had been brewing right in front of us. A string of extremely violent attacks has been taking place throughout Britain, but why has the Ministry been so keen to keep these attacks a secret? Many sources reveal that the Ministry feared the panicked response that news of these attacks would spur, with memories of the war still so fresh, and for good reason. However there may be even more to it._

_Just two days ago an attack was launched on a small town outside of Gillingham, South East of London. While the previous towns were home to less than 5000 people, this had been the largest attack yet, targeting a town of over 10,000 muggles. The strange manner in which these towns are attacked is always the same; they're virtually wiped off the map. The attacker forces the buildings to collapse in on themselves until they are flattened to the ground leaving behind a blood soaked ghost town in its wake, and never any survivors._

_While the ministry is doing everything in its power to reprimand the wizard responsible for such violent and unspeakable crimes, they have little more than a list of suspects that have yet to reveal any true end to the chaos._

Hermione put down the article, not wanting to read any more. The ministry was thinking the right thing not letting the story surface sooner, Skeeter hardly wrote in a style to calm one's nerves. It would be a miracle if people didn't rise in panic after reading an article like that. The only redeeming factor of the whole story was that, so far, only muggle towns had been targeted, Hermione thought gultily. And maybe with the case now public, people would come forward with information regarding the whole mess.

"The ministry's goin' to be hell tomorrow. Guaranteed to have press swarming the lobby as soon as I floo in." Ron's words broke Hermione's thoughts and she looked up at his creased face.

"Maybe if you head in early you can dodge them." She offered consolingly. He only grunted in response. "I suppose we should go now, shouldn't we?" She said in an attempt to distract his thoughts. It was nearly six and they were both to meet Harry for drinks.

"Oh, right. You better grab your cloak, it's cold out there."

They laced their arms together and drew their cloaks closer around themselves as they walked up the cobblestone, the alley now shrouded in the early darkness of winter. Finally reaching the pub, they hurried inside, eager to greet the warmth of the crowd.

Harry sat at the bar with his drink, talking circles around a young woman with dark curls. She had initiated a conversation with him about the right to own dangerous magical creatures and he took the liberty of educating her all about the realities of owning such things.

"You see it's all about how responsible you are as a witch or wizard. I mean if you live in a flat in a crowded city then obviously owning a hippogriff is not a responsible choice for you. Then again, if you live in the most rural parts of Scotland, for instance, and you have hundreds of acres of private land, then owning something like that would be quite doable."

"Well, maybe," the woman responded, but shook her head, "but not everything is appropriate to own simply given the right amount of space. I mean people can't be allowed to own sphinxes, can they? Those things are vile, and ruthless, and far too bloody smart for their own good. And what about dragons? You expect the ministry to let anyone own a dragon if they please? There needs to limitations on these kinds of things-"

"Again, if people were just more responsible, then the ministry wouldn't HAVE to step in and put limitations on these things. If someone lives in close proximity to a muggle town, or any town really, then it's that person's duty to make the judgment call that they shouldn't own a dragon. Once we let the ministry put restrictions on that aspect of our lives, there's nothing keeping them out of all parts of our lives. And anyway, many of the supposedly dangerous magical creatures wouldn't be so dangerous if people knew how to handle them properly. A sphinx, for one, can be dangerous of course, but if you can match its wit then it is no longer a threat to you." He offered, his memory wandering to the tri wizard tournament, and his own encounter with a sphinx, "More often than not, these creatures are seeking a mutually respectful relationship between us and them, and when shown respect, they back off and become great allies."

"Oi, you're not bragging again are you?" chirped Ron's voice from behind Harry. "Just 'cause you got to ride a Hippogriff instead of the rest of us-"

"what's that?" Harry demanded his head whipping around to greet his friend, "you say 'got to' like I was _asking_ to ride the bloody thing." He gave Ron a brotherly hand shake, and noticing Hermione beside him, gave her a hug and a hello while the brunette next to Harry gaped.

"You actually rode a Hippogriff?" she asked in amazement.

Harry turned back to her to respond but Ron beat him to it, "Is THAT really the thing that impresses you about him. He fought a dragon when he was fourteen!" He choked out, looking rather amused, and making the girl blush.

"Now who's bragging? We were just having an intellectual conversation." Harry said, willing his friend to not continue. He turned back to the girl, "weren't we?"

"I certainly understand where your feelings about magical creatures comes from, now." She told him weakly, but Ron wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder and offered the girl a little apology while ushering his friend away.

"I'm sure the whole back and forth was quite exciting, but I've got to steal him now. It's been lovely to meet you." He waved at her and they found a table while Hermione brought them the first round.

They found a table off to the side so no one would listen to their conversation, and when they finally took their seats, Harry spoke first. "I saw the article in the daily prophet today. Skeeter must have wet herself when she learned about this story."

"I suppose it was bound to come out eventually wasn't it?" Ron noted, taking his drink from Hermione as she returned.

"Is the ministry really still as clueless as ever about the whole thing?" Harry asked, and Hermione looked at Ron expectantly.

Ron shifted in his seat uncomfortably and took a sip of his beer before he spoke, "actually, there's been a bit of a- ah- breakthrough." He finished noncommittally.

Harry's eyes brightened for a moment, "really? What? What is it?"

"A letter," Ron answered, "We received a letter from who we're sure is causing all this trouble."

"Are you serious? That seems quite substantial. What did it say?" Harry was leaning over the table now, eager to hear Ron's response.

Hermione could sense Ron's struggle and she chimed in to help. "It wasn't so much what it said as how it looked, actually."

Harry's eyes darted over to her in confusion, "how it looked? You saw it?"

She shook her head, "Ron described it to me. At the bottom of the letter, where the sender signed it, they left a seal, a family crest."

Harry was now looking between the two of them eagerly. "And? Which family did it belong to?"

Ron took a gulp of his beer as Hermione responded, "It was the Black family crest, Harry."

He blinked a few times and sat back in his seat as the knowledge sunk in. It was no secret that the Black family was littered with more than a few not so pleasant members, some of which who had even been followers of Voldermort during both wars. But anyone with the last name Black was no longer living, right? "How is that possible?"

"We don't know yet." Ron said finally rejoining the exchange. "I know what you're thinking, and there ARE some Blacks still alive, they just don't go by the last name Black. Any descendents of female Blacks, but…" he trailed off and Harry imagined what Ron had been going to say. Children of female Blacks? Well there was little Teddy, barely a year old at this point. Harry could hardly picture the infant flattening a whole village, nor his grandmother, Andromeda, having the desire to do such a thing. And then there was Narcissa and-

"We have to pay them a visit." Ron said once he saw the recognition reach Harry's face. Harry met Ron's eyes and saw something he hadn't expected, an invitation. "I think you need to reconsider working for the ministry. You know they won't turn you down and you can be assigned to this case with me. We can go see him together."

Harry blinked again, not sure what to say. "You don't seriously think Malfoy could have done something like this do you? He's not the most talented wizard, and after the final battle him and his mum showed no interest in rekindling any old causes for Voldemort. He tore that family apart. They were practically gone before the battle even finished."

Ron shrugged, "You're right. And if it was him I don't see why he would leave something like a maternal family crest behind. All the same, it's the only lead we have right now. Maybe they'll have something interesting to tell us. We better talk to Andromeda too. I have a feeling we may hear some interesting family history from someone like her."

Hermione watched as the two spoke, acutely aware that Harry had side stepped the question about joining the ministry. She would have brought it up again but had a feeling that doing so wouldn't have led anywhere productive, so she made a mental note to badger him about it later.

They finished a few more rounds before heads started spinning and they departed for their respective flats. As Harry made his way through Diagon alley back home, his head swirled with the tidbit of news he had received. A Black? The closest thing he'd ever had to real family was a Black. He needed to know. He needed to get involved. He would go to the ministry on Monday.

* * *

As Harry stepped through the floo into the large atrium, it was much as he remembered it, with only a few changes. Where there had once been a very morbid statue of a witch and wizard demonstrating their dominion over all other creatures, there now stood a new statue still under construction, one that a. Harry smiled as he walked passed, thinking of how many times the statue had changed in the past few years.

As he walked he received some stares and gasps of "oh that's Harry Potter", "That's the boy who killed you-know-who!". His cheeks burned but he held his head high and kept walking, making his way straight for his destination. He had owled the Minister over the weekend and was pleased to see that the message had been received as the minister's pretty, young secretary greeted him happily as he reached the office. "Hello mister Potter," she gushed, "I'll let the minister know you're going in." He tilted his head at her in thanks as he walked to the office door, and he thought she may have wet herself with delight.

Harry knocked lightly and entered once he heard a deep "come in" flit through the door. Kingsley stood by a table, with his back to Harry, while he poured an amber liquid into two short glasses. He turned to face Harry with a wide grin and offered him a seat with an outstretched arm. "Harry, how good it is to see you. It has been a little while since last we spoke. I was a little surprised to receive your letter, though I was not displeased."

Harry took his seat and the glass from Kingsley's hand while Kingsley took his own glass and found a seat across from Harry. "Thank you, I was a little surprised to be sending it, to tell you the truth. But I think it was time for me to finally contact you." Harry took a sip from his glass. It was warm going down, and the smoothest thing he'd ever tasted.

"And why is that, Harry? Could this have something to do with that article Rita Skeeter posted in the Daily Prophet?" he raised an eyebrow knowingly. Harry had learned about the case long before the article, but it was strictly confidential and he didn't want to get Ron in trouble, so he followed that story.

"You're quite keen, sir. I did see that article, and it made me realize something. As you may know, I aspired to be an auror while attending Hogwarts. Fighting dark wizards, it seemed, was all I knew how to do. But when I finally defeated Voldemort, I felt that a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I had killed the bad guy. I had won. And since then I have been trying so hard to normalize my life, thinking that there was no more fighting to do. But you know what?" he paused for a dramatic effect, "A normal life is not for me." He shook his head as if shaking away the absurdity that he had ever thought himself normal. "I read that article and one thing shot through my mind: I want to hunt him down. The man responsible, I want to find him and catch him, and bring him to justice. I guess the ultimate realization here is that I am a warrior. And a warrior has no business leaving the battle field." Kingsley had listened patiently to Harry's epiphany, and let out a contented sigh.

"You are so admirable Harry. I'm glad to see that while war destroys many things, it has not dampened your spirit."

"Quite the opposite, actually" Harry laughed.

"Well you know that you don't have to prove yourself to me, I'm well aware of your fighting abilities. And truth be told, we could use a fresh mind on the case. If you would like to be an auror, however, you must complete the auror training. Traditionally it takes place for six weeks twice a year, and any aspiring auror can choose to participate in either the fall or spring training course. At the end of the course they take a test and if you pass you get your badge, and if not then you may try again whenever you like. However, under the circumstances, I think we may be able to modify that process." Kingsley pulled a parchment out of one of his desk drawers and read it quietly, "The next scheduled training course doesn't start for another three months, and I am, as I'm sure you are, eager to begin the process. I have a man, a senior auror, his name is Vince Blackwood and I think he would be happy to give you a crash course in your training." Kingsley had pulled out another piece of parchment this one blank, and he was scribbling something on it before with a flick of his wand it transformed into a paper airplane and disappeared out of the room.

Harry watched it leave and turned back to the man sitting before him. "Excellent. I knew you would be accommodating."

Kingsley met Harry's eyes and said, "how could I be anything less to the man who saved us all?" Harry could feel his cheeks burning again, but thought he better just get used to being praised like that if he was going to be at the ministry. "Now you understand that this 'crash course' I plan on putting you through will be much more intensive than the regular process, which is already quite intensive. I'm going to cut your training time in half so that we can get you on this case as soon as possible. I have a feeling something big is coming, and I need as many able bodies witches and wizards as I can get. You can go home for now, but be ready to return tomorrow. As soon as I hear back from Blackwood I'll owl you with the details."

Harry nodded his understanding. Intensive training was okay with him. He worked best under pressure.

* * *

Hermione stared at the letter in her hand, slightly stunned by the words that stared back at her. But after a moment, a smile slid onto her face as she finally absorbed the news. Only when the owl who had delivered her the message hooed at her impatiently did she tear her eyes away from the letters. She handed the bird a treat out of the bowl she kept by her window and turned to walk out of the kitchen as the bird flew away.

When she entered the living room Ron's voice broke into her thought, "What's that?" he asked eying the letter in her hand and noting the wide smile she wore.

"I did it, Ron. I got accepted." She could barely speak for excitement and just handed the letter to Ron instead.

His eyes dropped to the letter as he read.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_From the offices of Curiosa Inc., we would like to congratulate you on your acceptance into our highly recognized team. Curiosa Inc. chooses only the finest and most disciplined witches and wizards in the world to contribute to our efforts. We trust you to meet our highest expectations and look forward to seeing what you can do._

_All new team members must attend a short orientation in which they will familiarize yourself with the premises…_

Ron stopped reading and arched an eyebrow at Hermione. "Seriously? Were you worried you wouldn't get accepted?"

Hermione yanked the letter out of his hands with a huff, "Ron, they are the most prestigious research company in this part of the Wizarding world."

Ron rolled his eyes, "you always acted surprised when you got a hundred percent on a test too. As if they would turn down a war hero from the golden trio who already had an impressive academic record."

Hermione scoffed, "well I can still be excited about it."

"So when do you start, then?"

She scanned the parchment as she spoke, "it says I have to go to orientation, it's next week. Oh, I wonder how many other people will be there? Do you think they'll all be from England?"

Ron shrugged, "dunno, but I guess you'll find out, won't you?"

Hermione sighed at his lack of enthusiasm, but didn't let it strangle her own. "Well I can't wait. We should go celebrate."

Ron looked up, suddenly excited. "The pub?" and Hermione nodded happily in agreement.

When Ron and Hermione entered the pub it was to a much welcomed warming charm over the entrance. Christmas was on its way and the weather was finally acting like it. They removed their coats and found seats at the bar, and it wasn't more than a second after they sat down that Ron noticed Harry walking in the door. As Harry spotted them he approached with a wide grin.

"Congratulations, Hermione!" He gave her a tight hug as Ron looked puzzled.

"How'd you know?" he asked Harry suspiciously.

"I sent him an owl before we left," Hermione cut in, "I thought if we were celebrating, the more the merrier, right?"

Ron grumbled something that she couldn't quite hear, but she had no time to ask him about it as she was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"So what are we celebrating?"

Hermione's head ripped around in surprise, "Gerorge!" she exclaimed, seeing the tall ginger towering above her. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh you haven't heard? I own a shop here on Diagon Alley. Live above it too." He teased, and she rolled her eyes. "As it happens, I don't come out to this pub very often. I'm rather busy- taking care of the shop ..." he trailed off, but the 'by myself' at the end of his sentence was understood by everyone. He had yet to find a new business partner since the loss of Fred during the war. Everyone shifted a bit uncomfortably, not wanting to broach the subject, but thankfully George continued. "Tonight, however, I've been invited by someone. And let me tell you, no man in his right mind would have turned down an invitation from a girl like this." He finished and scanned the bar, apparently seeing if she was there.

"You're here on a date?" Ron asked amazed. George was still grieving and the thought of him actually going out and enjoying himself, or someone else, was positively uplifting.

"That's right little brother. And when you see her…" he stopped when he met Hermione's testing glare, and offered a small laugh. "But enough about the bird, what's this celebration about?"

Hermione sat up straight as she proudly announced her acceptance into Curiosa, and George was legitimately impressed. "Wow, Hermione, we all knew you were smart, but that's bloody amazing. What did you have to do to get in there?"

"How about help save the world?" Ron offered sarcastically.

"Well I like to think I was accepted because of my academic achievements and not purely because of my status as a war hero." She shot back at him.

"Speaking of getting ahead because of one's status as a war hero," Harry cut in, trying to lighten the mood, "I've got something to celebrate as well." They looked at him expectantly. "I've made a deal with Kingsley, he's going to send me into a specially designed training program so that I can become an auror." Hermione looked like she might burst with excitement, and Ron and George both gave him brotherly pats of congratulation.

"Well I say a round of drinks is certainly in order. On me, I insist." George declared as Harry made to protest. "Four Goblin's Sweat this way!" He hollered waving his coins in the air.

Hermione practically fell off her chair when she caught sight of the shot glass filled with foul looking liquid, and for a moment she could have believed it was actual goblin sweat. "You don't expect me to drink that, do you?" she demanded, eying the glass with distaste.

"I certainly do. Bottoms up!" George shoved his glass between them for cheers before throwing the drink back. Hermione watched as everyone did the same, and with a shudder she drank it down in one gulp.

* * *

The liquid tasted strong, but Harry thought it was no worse than some things he had tasted up north in the dingiest of muggle pubs. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and slammed the glass back onto the bar with satisfaction. When his eyes met back with the group before him, he nearly fell off his stool. George's date had arrived, and he couldn't believe who he saw. It was her. The woman from Giant's Causeway.


End file.
